The Eulogy of Mankrik's Wife
by Ihsan997
Summary: After years of searching, Mankrik's friends had helped him recover the body of his wife. Having prepared the burial area, it was time to finally say goodbye...at least for the time being. Oneshot.


Eulogy of Mankrik's Wife

The mid-day sun beat down on the savannah, the heat visibly rising up off the Gold Road in the distance. There was a light breeze pushing the ends of the tall grass, rippling like waves in a gilded sea.

Floating in that sea of yellow grass, Grol'dom Farm clung to the side of a large series of hills. Children played with the pigs out in the stye, chattering with each other as they tried to play tag with the furry creatures. Their father stood on the porch of the farmhouse. Leaning his back against one of the porch's supports, he took a long puff from his pipe. His friends were still making preparations out back.

Just a quarter of an hour later and a tauren druid had walked from behind an area shielded from travelers with a large leather tarp attached to several totem poles. Kranal looked up as the druid waved him over. It was time.

"Karu, " called the father, "you kids thirsty?"

"No papa...well...some more cider would be nice." The oldest child stood at attention near the railing of the stye closest to the porch.

"Mama and I just chilled some inside. Papa needs to help the other grownups out back; how about you kids go inside and have a drink with mama before she takes her nap?" They knew this day would come, but that knowledge didn't make it hurt any less. His wife was too distressed and felt as though she was losing her dear friend all over again.

"Guys, there's cider in the house!" Karu exclaimed. Kranal descended the steps and started on the beaten path out back as his children ran noisily inside the house. "Keep it down," he warned after them, "mama is tired! Hey, the mat, wipe your feet on the mat!" Watching them burst into the house cheered him up a bit.

Kranal passed behind the leather tarp, entering what was unmistakably a taurahe-style shrine. Two funerary racks were tucked closely behind the tarp, one of them empty. Four kodo ribs formed a square area around a mat, another leather tarp strung between their points to provide some shade for the sitting area. The druid was already standing at attention with his hands folded over his stomach in front of him. He had brought some family members and a guest Kranal didn't recognize. Three of the farmhands along with a Gold Road patrolwoman were shoulder-to-shoulder with the druid's family members, while an orc couple Kranal also didn't recognize were sitting in the shaded area. Their faces were both expressionless as they gazed at the ground in front of them.

Once everyone was assembled, Mankrik stepped out from behind the farthest totem to which the covering tarp was attached. His eyes were fixated down at a mat lying in front of the occupied funerary rack as he stood in front of all the gathered friends and loved ones. A faint smile spread across Kranal's face. Mankrik had always been very straightforward and was lacking any sense of ceremony of solemnity. For the first time, he seemed very low-key.

Mankrik pulled a hand-written note out of his pocket and held it out in front of him with both hands. Blushing slightly, he folded it again having realized that he forgot his reading glasses. Weakened eyesight was somewhat embarrassing in orcish culture and Mankrik seemed a bit self-conscious as he pulled his spectacles out of their case. Putting them on, he unfolded the note and held it out in front of him again, quickly reviewing what he wanted to say. He looked up at many of those who had been his pillars of support in the past few difficult years. He pursed his lips, searching for the courage to begin. The druid's sister flashed him sympathetic eyes, nodding as she tried to encourage him. Mankrik was surrounded by the last people on Azeroth to judge him.

"I can't express how happy I am to see all of you here. Honestly, I feel a bit awkward given that I prepared some brief comments intended for Olgra instead. And, eh..." He forced a smile as he tried to think of a good yet short segue. He stopped trying; his friends would understand. Olgra would understand.

"It goes without saying that...well, words will never describe how much you changed my life. You defined my life. It was shaped around you, as much as you would claim otherwise." This time, he flashed a real smile. "You were my love, my life, the only woman I ever kissed or even held hands with, my beginning and my end." Mankrik inhaled, relieved at how much easier this felt than he thought it would.

"In Nagrand, you were the only kid I could never quite beat in a foot race. You had so much happiness in your eyes and love to give the world. Nothing ever seemed to get you down. My...we met on a completely different planet, Olgra. A different planet. Draenor was still beautiful back then. I wish its beauty had lasted through the years as yours did, but we can not fathom fate. That's life."

"Circumstance changed our lives, the lives of all our people, irreversibly. We were possessed by forces beyond our control, pushed into a conflict we didn't want and as a result the world we once new was destroyed. But it never seemed to hurt us as much as it did many others. I remember how tight you held on to me as we tried to fight whatever was boiling inside of us, trying to cope with the curse with which we were afflicted." Kranal smiled wide enough for his front teeth to show now. His best friend was not usually so well-spoken or grammatically accurate; this is one instance significant enough to demand time spent planning what to say.

"Our people suffered a lot. Honestly, I don't think I would have made it without you. It was fate that allowed our cages in the internment camp to be close enough such that we could still hold hands when the humans weren't looking. We had nothing but each other, and stretching my arm out far enough to feel your fingertips made it seem like none of that was really happening." Mankrik kept the smile on his face even as he began to feel what was tugging at his insides. He tried to ignore it.

"We rebuilt. We started over. With the rest of our kin, we set out from the Eastern Kingdoms not knowing where we would finally hit land. In the weeks it took to cross that huge ocean, many of us were worried about the food and distilled water supplies. We should have worried, but sometimes ignoring a problem is easier than confronting it. Maybe it was irresponsible of us, but we sat away from the rest of the people, finding solace only in each other. You used to stand at the starboard side with your hands on the railing, looking out over the open ocean." Mankrik paused for a moment, realizing that he had forgotten to breathe. "You pretended like you didn't know I was there when I would walk up behind you. When I wrapped my arms around your waist, I felt like everything was going to be okay even when logic dictated that it would not. You would humor me when I joked about how how quickly you'd end up pregnant once our people had settled down into new lands. Your laughter made me feel like nothing else mattered, like nothing else even existed."

Pausing again, he tried to ignore what he knew was coming. Mankrik didn't want to prattle on for too long, and he didn't want his friends to see what he secretly knew they would see.

"We survived the Third War, making this new home of ours a safer place for all." He faked a small laugh. "Heh...I mean, who would have thought? How could anyone survive such huge crises, one after the other? The impossible happened. And it...uh...happened with you." His eyes salty and burning, Mankrik did his best to control the quivering of his lip.

"Some days I feel like you're still here, and you've just stepped out to go for a walk with some friends, or maybe tend to the wheat on that farm we always talked about starting. It was so exciting to be on the frontier, with so many possibilities ahead of us. Our shared life was a blank slate; you were the quiver, and I the inkwell. It...the analogy certainly fits our body types!" Some of his friends didn't understand the joke, but everyone other than the couple seated in the shading area chuckled a bit.

The skin on Mankrik's chin was tense, the vibration of his lower lip more evident as his breathing became heavy and irregular. He was fighting it as hard as he could. Every one of his friends would understand, but he still tried to hold it in.

"Things...don't always turn out...turn out the way we plan them," he managed to say in between muffled sobs. "It's been about five years now since my heart was broken into a thousand pieces. I take it one day at a time, and...and, time does heal the wound. It's slow, but I'm in better shape now than I first was. That feeling that you're still around, those memories that remain...the way you would twirl your left index finger in your hair when you were thinking about...and you used to support your left elbow with your right palm...I can take it one day at a time until I finally join you."

Meeting the supportive eyes of a dozen of the most important people in his life, Mankrik found what he needed to slow his breathing. He suddenly realized he was no longer even reading from his note; he no longer needed it.

"We promised each other many things, and I'm glad to say I never broke any until now. You asked me once...when we were in the internment camp...what would I do if you died early? It was so easy to think about it then because it seemed impossible. You made me promise that if you died young, I would remarry. I was always less mature than you and you felt I would need someone to take care of me. I'm sorry Olgra. I truly am. That is a promise which I must break. Your memory provides me more support than any other living person could. I know you worried about me, to the point where you were willing to have me be with someone else, but you don't have to worry. I will live my life, loving you no less than as if you were still here." He was surprised at how easy it was to say that part. He had expected to break down when it came time.

While the breeze cooled everyone down, Mankrik didn't want his friends to stay out in the heat longer than necessary. He had done enough crying and enough imaginary conversations over the past five years. It was time to finish.

"Even if it still hurts, I do feel like my heart was pieced back together eventually. It isn't with me now; it's yours. You take my heart, Olgra, and you take good care of it. When my time comes, I hope I will be reunited with you. You can return it to me then."

"I love you so much and I always will. Thank you...thank you, and I can't wait to see you on the other side."

Mankrik folded the note and stuck it back in his pocket, smiling as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He had a slight headache, but it felt good to finally say what he had been planning for so long. He turned to the funerary rack and took another look at its shrouded occupant.

The druid and his sister stepped forward, draping a piece of cloth over Mankrik's head and neck to protect from the heat. Mankrik walked in the middle, each of them holding a hand on his shoulder as his friends parted to let him pass. There was silence until the whole group reached the porch of Kranal's farmhouse. The Gold Road patrolwoman excused herself, while the rest of the group chatted on the porch. Kranal's kids ran out the front door, clinging to the legs of whichever adult was closest.

In front of the funerary rack, a Humble Monument had been erected, lovingly decorated with orcish runes to let any who saw it know who now rested there. "It took forever to find you," an inscription reproduced in both Orcish and Common read, "and now you're gone."

The mid-day sun beat down on the savannah, the heat visibly rising up off the Gold Road in the distance. There was a light breeze which was starting to die down, and the ends of the tall grass rippled like waves in a gilded sea.


End file.
